Anything is Better Than This
by Hawkbelly
Summary: A girl her age shouldn't have to deal with the type of stressors in her life. Somehow she manages. Having friends around helps, and Kate is lucky to have the Striders. But good things never last, and Kate knows that prospect all too well. Evil brews on the edge of humanity, and Kate is sure to get caught up in it like a fish in a net. FULL SUMMARY INSIDE (2nd POV)
1. Chapter 1

**_SUMMARY:_** **A girl her age shouldn't have to deal with the type of stressors in her life, and yet there she is doing exactly that. Somehow she manages. It's a lot easier to cope when one has friends around, and Kate is very much lucky to have exactly that. With the Striders she's much less likely to pick up self-harm despite what her dad tells her on a day to day basis. They're her escape from home, the Striders are, and she's certain they don't know it yet. She wants to keep it like that, too. Sometimes she even wishes she could stall time around her so the good moments could last forever.**

 **But good things never last, and Kate is all too familiar with that prospect.**

 **With a terrible conundrum steadily approaching from the horizon, this ignorant and partially broken girl will find she's right in the path of something very much bigger than herself. Soon she'll come to realize that being friends with the Striders could be a more questionable action than she'd thought at first. Was it worth it? She'll have to decide that for herself.**

This... is awkward...? I dunno. Something like that. Anyway! Wow, huh? Three years... Nothing posted, and then suddenly, WABAM! Homestuck. YUP! I'm Homestuck now. It's what I'm into right now, and I gotta say, I wish I'd known about it sooner.

Going back the the fact that I haven't posted anything in three years, I've been writing, but I must say I haven't been posting anything really because I've been busy and I also didn't want to post anything I knew I would finish. I never finish anything. It's kind'a sad, man. But whateve's.

A lot has changed in the passed three years. I'm sure you can tell. I'm still the same ole me, I'm just more wise and cautious if you'd go as far as to say that. I'm also more experienced in the ways of developing ideas. I've written many a comic and 93% of them haven't seen the light of day. Go on DA to see what has been posted. ;)

Just thought I'd catch up with y'all. **Now about the story:**

 **I posted this on the site that shall not be named and it got one hit. Just one. So I had a creative breakdown, believe it or not. Dumb, I know. The point is, this is where I'm posting now to hopefully get some good feedback. So, gimme what ya got yall! Hit me with' ya bes' shot (dunuh, DUNUUUHHHH!)!**

 **Here's what I said on the other site:**

I have a lot of FanFictions pending in the works and I have plans for this particular fanfic, though not as many plans (or excitement integrated into this work) as a certain other fanfic that may or may not come out in the future that happens to star a certain AI from a certain web comic, but that is falling into irrelevancy to the current work at screen. The point of this tangent is to let y'all know that the updates are going to be erratic, and life is also a huge, mighty factor in that so I apologize for that; just wanted to give y'all a heads up. Nonetheless I will work on this as long as my interest is grasped firmly by this story thing. Enough talking by my standards.

Enjoy the show folks!

 **(too much talkin', amiright?)**

* * *

Just hanging out with the locals on your floor. That's about all there is to it.

"Take that, asshat!" you scream after getting a headshot on your gaming partner.

"Well shit," your gamebro replies.

Your name is Katelyn Higgerbottom, known to mostly everyone as Kate, and you are friends with the apartment building residents known as the Striders. They live down the hall from you, and you take every moment you can to hang out with any one of them. Your apartment is… well, it's not the best environment to grow up in, and the Striders give you a sort of scapegoat to your problems. On the surface, they don't seem to mind. However, sometimes you wonder if you are ever seen as a burden, but then you remember part of the reason you come over so often and figure they would understand if you ever decided to explain it to them. You're also rather certain that they're "too cool" to say anything in the first place; you know better by now.

"Try to top that, you ironic ballsack!"

"I practically gave you that headshot."

"Oh yeah, sure you did. But I'll say no more if your pride is really that hurt, sir."

He grumbles a few words at you in return.

Currently, you and the elder Strider, Dirk, are playing a game known to many as Halo 3. You were lagging slightly behind by three points, but that went down to two with the head shot you just pulled.

A deeper, more gruff voice enters the fray of insults and heated banter that's commonly invoked by versus multiplayer, "I'm goin' out, don't catch the house on fire." You glance over to see the eldest Strider, who everyone calls Bro, walking out the door in his regular attire. For the thousandth time, you briefly wonder if his name actually is Bro, and then wonder what his real name is.

"No promises," Dirk calls back, bringing you out of your momentary lapse in concentration. It's quickly followed by a, "Got'cha" with the TV announcing a headshot.

Your head snaps around in time to see your character fall on her face. Your eyes widen and your brow furrows. "What the hell, Dirk?! That's so not cool!" You're back to three points apart.

He shrugs, "All's fair in love and war."

You make a loud noise of frustration before exclaiming, "Oh yeah?! I'll show you what's fair in love and war!"

"Sure, if you can take the Strider charm."

Your brain stutters for a moment before you decidedly pause the game and face him with a poker face that hopefully rivals his own; you've been working on it. You stare for a moment before replying with a plain yet slightly disgusted, "No."

His mouth turns up into something slightly more than a smirk; this is a rare moment. He then jokingly replies, "Your loss." You roll your eyes.

Truth be told, when you first met the Striders, your ovaries threatened to explode, which is why at first you never talked to them; you were much too shy. But one day, when you were struggling to bring a few armloads of groceries to the apartment, one of them offered to help, albeit in as cool of a way as one could possibly offer help, and that began your ability to talk to the Striders. Afterwards, you gradually became more comfortable around each one of them as the next year and a half dragged by. Which leads up to the point of now, in which you are comfortable enough around them to yell insults at them in a friendly manner.

Half-faked anger floods your face as you unpause the game. "Dirk I swear ta' God…"

Another headshot from Dirk stalls your train of thought. A moment of silence filled with an aura of bigheadedness coming from Dirk is only split apart by you. "DIRK MOTHERFU-"

You are interrupted by a younger voice. "Hey, can you keep it down in there? I'm trying to mix some sick as fuck beats."

Your head turns to lock blazing eyes upon a face half-covered by aviator shades. There he is, the one responsible for interrupting your vocal ass whooping, standing with that classic chill stance and adorning the default poker face; you imagine the color drains from that seemingly impassive face from behind those shades and hope to God that it's true. "Dave…" you mutter dangerously.

"Yeah?" he asks nonchalantly.

You leave a moment of silence to gain an uncomfortable atmosphere before continuing, "Get the fuck out." You point at his door.

"Alright then," he replies before striding back into his room.

You turn back to Dirk and find a surprising sight. Though it's not noticeable to the untrained eye, it seems as if Dirk is attempt to hold back laughter. You stare in surprise for the second it takes Dirk to quickly compose himself, and then the moment of wonder is over.

Your eyes squint with suspicion of him laughing at your attempt to be "scary" and you testily ask, "What?"

He's quiet for a moment before he glances at you and says, "I've never seen the li'l dude exit a room so quickly without ranting, 'specially when he's complainin' about somethin'."

You take a moment to register and process his words, and when the results come through you smile knowing you accomplished the feat of unsettling a Strider. Granted he's the youngest and least impassive of the household, it still most certainly counted for something.

"Ah," is all you say as you look back to the tv, feeling somewhat giddy. However, that quickly changes when you spot the points that Dirk has "magically" racked up while you were distracted. You are certain that he's been watching your face from the corner of his eye so he can catch the reaction that you both know will happen. And it most certainly does.

"...You motherfucker…" is how it begins.

In the same exact galaxy on the same planet and within the same city, there are happenings and shenanigans as one being begins the first phase of the diabolical plan that had been hatched quite a while ago.

* * *

This ain't up to my standards, just so y'all know.

 **HEY. HEY YOU. YEAH, YOU. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK. _IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO ABANDON THIS STORY_ , THEN TELL ME THAT PLEASE. I have a lot of hobbies, and this _will_ be left to perish if I feel no one is enjoying it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:**

A new challenger approaches! With this new challenger, we see that darkness creeps along the horizon and threatens to come crashing down on the world as it is known. In other news, we come to find out why Kate is so desperately eager to hang out with the Striders, and the truth becomes a little less murky.

 **WARNING:** referenced child abuse

 **Notes:**

Holy wow geeze! Look at this... Would you just look at it?! A chapter the next day... with more words! Don't get used to it. The chapter update I mean.

The first chapter had a significant lack of words, and it was not up to my standards length-wise. This one has a little more to it, but it's still bluh. Everything is all or nothing with me these days... Anyway, for those of you who stuck around to read this, enjoy the show y'all!

* * *

A mysterious figure stands before a large panel covered in switches and buttons. The mysterious being happens to be responsible for hashing out a diabolical plan to destroy humanity. Currently the mysterious being is about to press the beautifully shiny button that will surely begin the damnation of this wretched planet ruled by apes who call themselves humans. The being prefers to call them stupid.

The being raises it's hand with a giddy smile adorning its face. It pauses for a moment of suspense, hardly able to believe that its plan has finally come to the beginning of the end. A manic yell that begins hysterical laughter erupts from the being as it's hand finally slams down onto the button. The power shorts out. For a moment all is silent, and the being's mouth is stuck in mid laughter. A few shouted obscene words and phrases fill the room. The buildup had been absolutely perfect, but the power just had to cut out.

The being goes to investigate the fuse box, grumbling along the way.

Video games at the Strider's apartment was cut short today when the power suddenly went out and didn't come back on for the next twenty minutes. You had decided to ask for another lesson in katana wielding because it was the perfect time. You thought their ninja skills were awesome and hoped to one day be even a tenth as good as them. That lesson had been your second, and Dirk had found your lack in skill very frustrating, as he did the last time. You are a brand spanking new student to the Strider dojo, and you are certainly lucky be that because the dojo isn't even in business.

The lesson had gone well from your point of view, you suppose. You'd graduated to learning how to swing the katana; granted you had to do it in slow motion, but it was still progress in your eyes. Nonetheless, the lesson was cut short as you had ended up scurrying off of the rooftop when Bro had gotten home. Those strifes were pretty intense, and being up there during a Strider strife was heartstopping. You had decided that migrating back into your apartment would be a good move seeing as no one would be home at your place. And that's where you stand now. In the apartment doorway. That was open when you got there. Oh shit.

You close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing through the apartment, being sure to grab a few Tiger Milk Bars from the cupboard as you go. You make sure to keep an extremely watchful eye out for any movement, as well as a very strained ear for any sort of sound. All seems quiet for now, so you relax a little bit. With your relaxation, however, came a momentary laxing of your grip on the four energy bars in your hand. You don't notice until it's too late. You take a belated dive for the energy bar, but it hits the ground with a deafening slap and the crinkling of the wrapper. Your hairs stand on end as you freeze up, your hand hovering over the fallen energy bar. Movement sounds from one of the rooms in the hall, and it's quickly followed by an incomprehensible voice, which is your cue to get to your room asap. You quickly scoop up the fallen bar as you launch yourself into the hallway and into your room. You catch the silhouette of a gruff figure in the doorway to the other room.

Just as you shut and lock your door, you hear a garbled yell and something slams into the door, eliciting a yelp from you. You need something to hold the door in place in case the lock doesn't hold - it's seen too much abuse and you wouldn't be surprised if it shattered right now.

The mysterious and heinous being responsible for the power outage has deemed that said power outage was caused by an insufficient amount of power and has thus come to the conclusion that a more powerful power source is needed. The being decides to call in a shipment of a certain type of rock with highly concentrated amounts of energy stored inside. He is put on hold and nearly throws his communication device out the window.

This is not his day.

You lay awake on your bed in a tight ball in an attempt to feel safe. You made sure to shut your bedroom door tight and had placed a chair under the doorknob just to be sure that you won't get caught tonight. You don't want to be here right now; you wish you were with the Striders. Even being out on the streets is better than being at home. You're trying so hard not to cry; as long as you don't make noise to remind him of your presence, he'll surely calm down and pass out without remembering you're here. Surely you'll make it through the evening, as long as you don't make a sound. Though despite his earlier lapse in focus, that hope seems futile, especially when you hear him walk up to your door in his stumbling manner. Of course he'd head for your door.

You've turned to stone awaiting with pointless hope to hear his feet trail away, but tonight seems like a less than lucky night for you. Something slams so hard against the door that it shudders as if the hinges will come apart, and you're sure you just heard glass break too. You violently jump and scream. He screams your name and begins pounding the door in a rhythmless fury. You begin to sob, trying to keep your sound to a minimum as you squeeze your eyes shut and will away the bad things. You hope desperately that he'll just go away, that he'll forget about you and go pass out on the couch, or better yet in his own room. If he does pass out on the futon, it won't hinder your dinner too much seeing as you prepared for that by stashing some snacks in your room.

You really don't want to be here right now.

Surprisingly, with a new lengthened record, it takes an hour for the old fart to pass out. He'd alternated between roaming the house and pounding at your door while screaming your name. Now you can plainly hear the loud snoring of a drunken man; you're almost certain he passed out on the couch. You will have to delve into the snack bank for now because you won't risk him randomly waking up while you're in there.

Your name is Kate Higgerbottom, and you've just escaped the wrath of your father.

* * *

 **Notes** :

So, that was a little heavy.

I tried to make it not so heavy, because it would have taken away from the previous chapter's tone and I wanted to introduce this fact into the story without straight up jarring every reader of this story. I feel I was successful.

I most certainly did not want to introduce Kate's home-life with a beating; that would have been pretty upsetting if I do say so myself, and the upsetting part isn't supposed to some until later when waste particles hit the wind propelling device. Sooo, look forward to that! I guess... Also, **pleeease let me know what you think of this story. I can't tell if it's going good or not.**


End file.
